


Lies that are Tearing us Apart

by FrogSpawn



Series: Septiplier/Danti One-Shots [8]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Break up sex, Crying, Desperation, Hurt No Comfort, Jealousy, Long time coming, M/M, One Shot, Sad Ending, Short One Shot, Short Story, Work, heart ache
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 13:14:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20507585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrogSpawn/pseuds/FrogSpawn
Summary: It's been a long time coming; a long time of cold shoulders, missed calls and single word answers. Their relationship is far from what it used to be a shell, a shell of anything that either of them wanted, however they have been delaying the inevitable too long. And yet when it comes down to it, it's still to hard to talk, to speak openly to the other. Mark's drinking problem doesn't help.





	Lies that are Tearing us Apart

Footsteps and the soft click of the front door alerted Mark that someone was entering the house, snapping him out of his drowsy haze. Bleary, brown eyes cracked open, internally wincing as the harsh light was flicked on, before opening fully.

"You're late."

The newcomer nodded and bit his lip, glancing at the slumped figure of his boyfriend with a guarded expression on his blank face. Silence descended as the man made his way to the armchair beside the leather sofa and sat down, a hushed exhale passing his plump lips when the other did not move. It wasn't clear to him what Mark was feeling, whether it be anger or disappointment. However he did know that they couldn't continue like this.

Both working long hours in public service industry, Mark taking a shift during the day and Anti taking time late evening, they barely spoke anymore.

When Mark pulled up in his truck, clambering out of the vehicle and stretching his sore joints, their eyes would meet for a fleeting moment before their gazes were down turned to the grey gravel that crunched underneath Anti's feet as he made his way towards his mode of transport. It was evident in the stiff silence and the strained smile on both of their faces that they wanted to say something, to speak to the other about things that mattered. Instead, there were a few offhanded questions about work, replied to by single words or phrases which were clearly untrue, before Anti mounted his bike and began to peddle away.

There was so much pressure on their relationship. What was so loving and affectionate became hollow and formal - their kisses began to become a scarce occurrence and so did any form of tenderness between them. Even more recently, Anti had begun to find empty liquor bottles stashed in the far reaches of their bare cabinets.

However, this evening was different.

Usually, Anti came home to find either an empty house filled with frigid, stony air or Mark splayed out in their bedroom, streaks of agitation down his blackened cheeks as he didn't bother to shower, and an empty bottle of spirits beside him.

But here they were, sitting in the same room, a familiar distance between them.

"I got held up at the ward."

"You could have called," was shot back. The voice sounded so lost and quiet that it was barely even annoyed.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Anti frowned lightly and leaned forward in the seat, "You smell like whiskey."

"Really? I didn't notice," he scoffed heavily, making the other wince at the pure venom that dripped from the mocking gesture, "Why were you late? And no lying this time."

"I won't lie to you if you don't lie to me."

Another silence. Mark's expression morphed from one of bewilderment and anger to one of guilt and dread, his hands beginning to tremble from their placement on his lap. Sharp teeth nibbled lower lips and fabric was picked as they waited out the noiselessness, once again turning a blind eye to the issue. Then, all of a sudden, they spoke at once, both of their tones uneasy.

"I want to work this out-"

"This clearly isn't working-"

They stopped. Staring at each other, coca clashing with emerald. Both of them held such grief and sorrow that it made the gleaming orbs seem like stones, sinking slowly in the ocean, drowning as they thrashed and writhed in a feeble attempt to avoid the inevitable. Sounds blurred and travelled far away until it was just them, detached from reality and pushing away logical thought and aid for a new supply of toxins that made their conscious feel so heavy and light at the same time.

"You want to break up?" Mark's voice was no more than a whisper.

"Yes. Well, no and yes." Anti inhaled deeply before continuing, struggling to steady his voice, "We need to take a break, have time apart to clear our heads and think about what we really want from our relationship."

It was an empty proposal. They both knew that.

Once they were apart they would go about their life, mourning the loss of the addiction that slowly destroyed their mind and heart, their poisonous drug that seeped into the very corners of their minds and began to pull it apart, bit by bit, day by day.

Still, knowing that, Mark nodded and rose from his seat, figure visibly shaking.

"I'll pack up my things and go to Jack's."

The last three words sent shards of glass rocketing into Anti's heart, savagely slashing at this heart. Regret and misery were prominent emotions on his mind as he watched Mark's god-like body crawl up the stairs. His mind hurt.

Knowing that he was the one who caused him to leave wasn't enough to stop the agony that tore through his veins. It wasn't enough to stop him shooting up from where he sat and slamming Mark against the wall, streams of tears flooding down his cheeks. Mark was in no better state as he whimpered, until his noises of defeat and heartache were cut off by the soft lips of his ex lover.

They parted, Anti panting, glassy eyes wide as their liquid rolled and trickled onto the floor, "One last time. One last time, before you leave. Before you leave me forever, one last time. Need you. Please."

Mark's stomach flipped and clenched uncomfortably, his mind screaming at him, yet they were shoved to the side as their lips smashed together again.

In no time at all they were lying on the bed, silk comforters dishevelled and shoulder to the floor as lips connected with such vicious desperation iron filled their mouths. Hands roughly grappled and palmed the others' skin, purple blooming on the surface. Fabric was torn and ripped to sheds, fluttering to the floor as howls echoed down the hall.

Pain and pleasure blurred together so much that Mark was keening for more as nails dug into his exposed thighs, drawing beads of crimson from inside him, waiting for the rough shove of Anti's hips to bury his thick cock in his unprepared asshole.

The gentle sound of birdsong entered the bedroom from the open window, a pleasant breeze filtering through and rustling the yellowed curtains on their route. A lethargic groan left Anti as he rolled over and made a move to grab Mark, but paused when there was nobody there.

Suddenly, the events of last night flooded into his mind, overwhelming every part. He shot up, sleep forgotten as he recounted the words, eyes darting around the large room for a sign that Mark had stayed. Some clothes, a shoe, anything would do.

Yet there was nothing. The room was clean, stripped bare save for the few possessions that Anti had - even the clothes had been neatly folded on the dresser.

It felt so cold. So lonely. So painful to stay here.

He couldn't move, only focus on keeping his breathing in check as salty drops splattered on the floor with what remained of his heart, Mark's inviting cinnamon scent still lingering, yet it was so strong. He didn't even notice the folded piece of paper that lay next to the clothes as he sank to the floor, nothing but a mass of sobs.


End file.
